The Memory
by Miss-Nyss95
Summary: Pre Hobbit. This story is all its own. Thorin remembers another reason as to why he hates orcs. The memory is filled with love and hate, joy and sorrow. Rated T for now. Please R&R.
1. Imelia

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or any of its characters; but I do own Imelia. If you ever find yourself in a situation where she would be a good character to use in your own story you are welcome to use her, just let me know first. Thanks.

"Thorin has more reason than most to hate orcs," Balin said to Fili, Kili, and the Halfling, Bilbo Baggins.

_Aye, that is true, _Thorin thought to himself. Orcs had taken an innumerable amount of his kin, including his grandfather, and his father in the battle over the Mines of Moria. He had suffered other losses at their hands as well. The memory that scorched through his mind presently was one he wished he could forget; but it would haunt him until the day he died…

Thorins' pony trotted contentedly through the hills taking her time to get to their destination. Thorin, likewise, was in no rush as he was satisfied smoking his pipe and gazing at the rolling hills. The sky that day was clear and the sun was pleasantly warm. It was mid-spring so the grass was green and soft (the pony appreciated this a great deal, as in was soft under hoof and sweet on the tongue), and the air was teeming with pleasing smells. As Thorin surveyed the countryside his destination came into view. A town surrounded by farms and large wealthy estates arose from the rolling landscape. It was an agreeable looking place with brightly painted houses and buildings. Smoke rose from chimneys, and Thorin could hear children laughing and dogs barking. Thorin nodded to himself, tipped out the ash in his pipe, stored it in his saddlebag, and then tapped his ponies flank with the heel of his boot, spurring her into a canter. As he came into the town, many of the townsfolk smiled and nodded murmuring greetings.

"Master dwarf!" a man called out from the door of the smithies, "Are you searching for the settlement?"

Thorin nodded, "Aye."

"Well, you just keep going straight through, follow the main road till you reach your first intersection. Take the right; you'd have to be daft to get to miss it with all the smoke and noise. Anyways take the right and they'll be just over the hill. Hey, Dergin! One you're kin just come into town!" The man shouted into the smithies, tuning back to Thorin, "You have a good day, master dwarf."

"And you as well," Thorin replied. "Thank you for the directions."

As he turned away the dwarf the stranger had been calling to stuck his head out the door, his pipe in his mouth, but it did not stay there. After he saw Thorin his jaw dropped, nearly beating the pipe to the ground at his feet. Then the dwarf was off. Running as fast as his feet could carry him. It seemed that there would be a party on the grounds of the Redwing estate tonight.

"Welcome Thorin! It is good to see you again," Balin said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Thorin smiled at the older dwarf, "It has been too long, old friend."

"Aye, it has," Balin replied. "So what brings you to Kerdenwil? This is not a very large town and whatever work a dwarf might find here is already taken."

"I have not come here for work, I merely stopped into see you and some others who have settled here for now."

"Ah, come to visit. That is rather unlike you. I am pleased that you have come, but you were not expected, that is for certain. Just look at the commotion you have caused," Balin gestured behind him at the mayhem that was indeed ensuing.

Thorin smiled and scratched the side of his face, "I suppose this means I'll be eating until I'm sick then."

Balin laughed, "Yes it appears that way. Come sit and talk with me awhile." Thorin scowled a bit and looked at everyone, "Let everyone scurry about for you for now," Balin said, guessing that Thorin did not like the idea of his people making a fuss over him.

"But –" Thorin began.

"But nothing, despite what you seem to think of yourself these days, you are their king; and if they want to throw you a feast, then let them. There is precious little they can do for you these days. The least you can do is allow them to feed you for goodness sake." Thorin scowled at Balin. Balin just raised a brow.

"Fine," Thorin did not care to be scolded but there was no purpose in being angry at the one he came to visit.

"Good!" Balin clapped his hands together, "Now, I have some fine tobacco that needs to be smoked and a tale or two that needs to be told." Then he led Thorin to a small stone cottage nestled into a green hill.

The two dwarves spoke for many hours. They talked about the adventures they'd had since they last spoke and of old times and memories; both good and bad.

"So," Thorin said, leaning back and biting on the end of his pipe, "What brought you here to – what was it you called this place?"

"Kerdenwil."

"Right, Kerdenwil. This is indeed a smaller town. It looks like its growing though. I saw several buildings going up on my way here.

"Mostly farmhouses," Balin said, "And this little dwarf settlement. The humans here seem to think the soil is rich in nutrients that will be good for their crops."

"Is it?

"I can't rightly say, I have not looked at the soil here that extensively."

"Hmm."

"But, the people here are good and kind. They respect us and try to help us when they can. The land we are on is actually part of an estate that belongs to a particularly gracious family."

"You've met them?" Thorin asked, curious now.

"Yes, I have. Their oldest daughter, Imelia delegates between us and the family most of the time. Her father is often indisposed with matters of the estate and the politics of the region. She's good and diligent for one so young. Very thoughtful, very capable. She knows how to sooth the tempers of even the most… sensitive folk, and makes for a good referee."

"What?" Thorin asked.

"Yes, peculiar thing, you know how rowdy we can get. Do you recall your thirtieth birthday?"

Thorin almost laughed, "It took almost a year to repair all the damages, Father was furious."

"Yes, and if I recall correctly he was the one who smashed the corner of your table off."

Thorin nodded, his hand rasped over his beard, "Anyways, please, continue."

"A yes well, it's difficult to fully explain the girl, chances are you'll meet her tonight."

"I will?"

"Yes, Redwing – that is her father – likes to have one of his family members attend large social gatherings." Balin chuckled. "I think he just wants someone to keep things from getting out of hand.

Then there was a knock at the door

"That'll be our invitation," Balin said, standing. He went over to the door and swung it open wide. In the doorway stood a young woman with long blonde hair rippling down her back, and big, dark blue eyes; she curtseyed a little to Balin, the lamplight glinted off her tan skin.

"Well, I was just speaking of you, dear," Balin ushered her in. "Thorin, this is Imelia of The Redwing Estate.


	2. Party

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or any of its characters; but I do own Imelia. If you ever find yourself in a situation where she would be a good character to use in your own story you are welcome to use her, just let me know first. Thanks.

...

Imelia curtseyed to Thorin, her dark green dress rustling, "Master Thorin," she said.

"Lady Imelia," Thorin replied bowing.

She smiled, "Imelia will do just fine, thanks."

"And Thorin will do for me," Thorin said.

"Very well, Thorin, Balin. Several of your kin have requested that I come and formally invite you to a feast that they have prepared. My father, Lord Redwing, also sends his welcome and his apologies that he could not attend himself." She beamed at them.

"Thank you," Balin said, "We will attend the festivities presently."

"I accept your fathers welcome and apology," Thorin stated formally.

They stood in silence for a moment, then Balin spoke, "Alright, you two, we've dispensed with the formalities. Now let us go outside and socialize. Make merry! There will be food and dance and song so let us go enjoy the night before it is over."

"Yes of course," Imelia said, walking to the door and after opening it, swept out. The two dwarves followed. Outside, evening had fallen and the grove was filled with music and laughter and cooking fires. Dwarf children ran about the place laughing and trailing steamers, while their elders stood talking and cooking. Thorin smiled at how happy everyone seemed despite the lack of a proper home.

"Dwarves have some of the best parties," Imelia said standing next to him. She was petit but Thorin still only reached below her shoulder. "You can never get enough humans to gather in one place for a friendly function. They hate each other to much. And elven parties are too regal and formal, quite boring really," she continued.

Thorin tensed, "You have attended an elven function." He sounded resentful and suspicious.

"Once, my father's an elf friend for saving one of their kin or something along those lines." If Imelia noticed the edge on his voice she ignored it. "Dreadfully boring, I thought; and the music would get in your head and…" She trailed off shaking her head. "No, it was not for me."

Dwarves began filing up to Thorin after a few minutes, bowing and murmuring their greetings and other trivialities. Thorin bowed and replied in turn to each, all the while Imelia stood next to him, observing the interactions. After the dwarves had drifted off to give Thorin a few moments peace he went and took a seat.

Imelia followed, sitting next to him, "If it is not too presumptuous of me, may I ask what your status among them is?"

Thorin gave her a sidelong glance.

"The way they treat you, I've never seen it before. All dwarves respect each other in my observations, but with you, they seek you out and tread a little bit lighter, as if they are afraid or in deep mourning."

Thorin was quiet for awhile; finally he spoke, "I am their king. If you wish to know more seek out Balin, he is better with narratives than I." With that he stood and began to mingle among the other partygoers.

Imelia gazed after him for a moment, then rose and sought out Balin who so kindly and in somber tones retold the loss of Erebor at the claws of Smaug. Thorin rejoined them near the end of Balin's account. The festivities were in full swing now and singing, dancing, and the smell of good food engulfed everyone's attention.

"Well that explains the respect they show you, but the loss of Erebor was felt by all. Why is it they tread so softly around _you _inparticular_?_"

"Ah, well," Balin said, "This is a time for merrymaking, not dredging up old memories. Thorin, I believe I see your sister over there. It has been too long since you and Dís last spoke. Go and see her, now before the night is over and one of you leaves this place."

Thorin nodded, and stood, leaving Imelia and Balin alone again.

"You certainly have kept your peace this evening, and the dress is nice… Why you're wearing it I cannot rightly say, but it is pretty," Balin said when Thorin had gone out of earshot.

"Well, Father insisted a _professional air _as he called it. He suggested I keep as formal as possible and politely find out who it was stirring up all the trouble."

"Are we trouble?" Balin asked his eyebrows arching.

She laughed, "Never, master dwarf; but Father was curious about the commotion and who could have preceded it. He would have come himself but Delkin is ill and Father decided it would not be fair for him to go and leave his favorite, most curios son sipping soup and watching Mother knit. So he stayed behind. The dress on the other hand, is all Mothers doing." She flicked at its folds distastefully.

"Ah," Balin said. "Well now that you have met the causer of commotion, what do you think of him?"

Imelia grinned wolfishly and blushed, she looked up and stared at Thorin for a moment, "He is…. Handsome."

Balin burst out laughing, attracting the attention of many. Imelia crossed her ankles and waited for him to finish.

"You would say that, you," Balin said swiping a tear of mirth from his cheek. "Well handsome he may be now but just you wait, someday he will be old and grey, like me, and maybe even fat, like old Bombur over there is getting," Balin said gesturing to the dwarf who was busy filling his face and laughing with good company.

Imelia smiled knowingly, "That is true, Balin, but I have no fear of that because you see he is a dwarf and I am a human, so by the time he is old and grey and possibly fat I will be long dead and buried. So for now I can enjoy the view."

Balin laughed again, "You're a mad woman you are."

Suddenly, there was a shout of alarm and all attention was on Thorin (who had previously been sitting and conversing with his sister), for now he was on his feet, looking very cross and holding a young boy by the scruff.

"Del!" Imelia shouted, rising and descending on the pair like an angry tiger. "You! You little rascal, are supposed to be in bed, sickly and asleep. Instead you are here, crawling under our guests chairs by the look of you! All that dirt!" She lifted the boy out of Thorins grip and held him level, glaring at him.

The dirty little boy turned very red and looked down and his dangling feet, "Mm sorry, Imelia, it's just, I wanted to see what was going on and Mama wouldn't let me."

"Of course she wouldn't; you've got a chill. No one wants you getting the flu; and on top of it all look at the good your attendance has done, none! Now," She said finally setting him down. "You go over there and apologize to Master Thorin for disrupting him." She propelled him towards Thorin. Delkin shuffled closer, ringing his little hands. Then he looked into Thorins scowling face and took a deep breath – and sneezed. The boy flushed even brighter than before and looked down at his toes. Thorins scowl disappeared as he fought off a grin. Others did not work so hard to contain themselves, laughing boisterously. Thorin put a hand on the child's shoulder, causing him to look up again. Delkin was a spitting image of his sister, only his eyes were a bit brighter (though it was likely just the fever) and his cheeks several shades redder.

"All is well, lad. There is no need for you to apologize to me, but you should get home to bed so that you are healthy again soon, hmm?"

Delkin nodded "Yessir. Goodeveningsir." Then he was off, running towards the manner on the hill.

Thorin hailed the nearest dwarf, "Make sure he gets home safely." Then he turned back to Imelia, whose hands were on her hips, but a look of affection adorned her face.

"Thank you, for handling him so graciously," she said. "That boy means the world to me and my family. We'd give anything to keep him happy and healthy. That's why our mother would not let him attend tonight."

Thorin nodded, "Well come, why don't you tell me more about yourself." And for a while she did, they talked of pleasant things they knew, and hobby's and adventure's until the games began. Wrestling and mock sword fights began sprouting all over the place.

"Imelia!" a voice called from a few feet away. "I demand a rematch from you, dear lady!" Before them stood a young dwarf with two wooden swords, grinning like a madman; then he thrust one of them at her.

She sighed, "I'm afraid, Thorin, that I must accept the challenge and our conversation must be – regrettably – postponed." Then she grasped the sword and followed her advisory through the crowd, which followed them close behind, hooting and hollering.

Balin appeared at Thorin's shoulder, "Come on, you won't want to miss this."

"What is 'this' exactly?"

"Ah, well, there's something I forgot to mention about Imelia - this girl can fight better than most men I have met."

"What?" Thorin asked, incredulous.

"Yes, her father taught her how to fight, and well. Rather unusual thing that a woman should be taught the art of battle, but Redwing, believes that she is equal to any man, and as an equal she should learn the trades of men."

"That's ridiculous, women are women, and men are men. I can agree with the belief in equality but each gender has its respective roll to play."

"Perhaps, but none the less, even if I was a young dwarf I would not wish to cross swords with her. And now this poor fool is going to be battered to bruises by her yet again. Come on now; this will be the highlight of the evening, trust me."

...

**Okay kids Authors note. **Hey, this is Nyss here. So couple of facts; this story is mostly its own thing. Not based specifically off the movie or the book but there are attributes from each. Also, the timeline is really messed up as some of the more passionate Hobbit fans may know. In Thorins proper timeline his people settled in the Blue Mountains before the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. In which his grandfather dies and his father disappears after that. But in this story the war has taken place, like it did in the movie but the dwarves have yet to settle in the Blue Mountains. Also it is speculated that Kili and Fili were born in those mountains. I'm not saying that they will for sure end up in the story, but it is a possibility.


	3. Sparring

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or any of its characters; but I do own Imelia. If you ever find yourself in a situation where she would be a good character to use in your own story you are welcome to use her, just let me know first. Thanks.

...

Thorin trudged up the little hill, coming to an open space where many dwarves had made a large circle with Imelia and the young dwarf in the middle. Imelia had shed her fine dress revealing a white undershirt and worn riding breeches.

Thorin started, then looked over at Balin, who simply shrugged.

"That's how she normally dresses," he stated simply.

"Hmm," Thorin said, pressing his lips together.

The crowd cheered and supported their favorite contender (most of them seemed to favor Imelia, which Thorin found extremely peculiar).

"Well hurry up then," Balin growled, the crowd parted for him and Thorin. "We'd better get up there before the match has begun and ended."

They reached the inner circle and watched as the young dwarf and the young woman circled each other. Every now and then one of them would flick their wrist and tap their opponent's sword.

"Get on with it!" someone shouted in the crowd.

"You've got her this time Gifor!" another called.

Gifor hollered and swung wide aiming for her hip. Imelia danced out of its way, spinning and whacking Gifor on the rear. He yelped indignantly and growled; then he lunged at her with ferocious strength. He jabbed and swung with such intensity that if any of the blows had struck home, Imelia would surely have to content with broken bones. None of them did though; she always skipped away from him at the last moment. As Thorin watched he realized the technique she used. It was well devised; Gifor was stronger than Imelia, but he was slower. Imelia used her swiftness and size to her advantage, dancing away from every blow. She also minimalized her movements, conserving energy, and waiting. Once Gifor ran out of steam, which he soon would, Imelia could unleash a flurry of blows, dropping her opponent to his knees. Thorin had foreseen the remainder of the spar, but a slip up on Gifor's part ended the match early. He raised his sword to high so that it was above his head, then Imelia slipped in and thrust the sword at his throat, stopping as the tip touched the vulnerable flesh.

"You lose," Imelia tutted, bringing the sword away from Gifor.

"Aye," he agreed, his breath coming out in gasping puffs. "But one day, woman," he smiled and did not finish his idle threat. Then he bowed and retreated.

"Someone get the lad a drink! He may look like he is in good spirits, but his pride needs to be soothed!" Balin shouted after those that followed their defeated friend.

Imelia smiled a broad, toothy smile, and turned to a young dwarf, who was holding her dress. She collected it from him and thanked him. Then she disappeared for a few moments only to return in her fine dress. She caught sight of Thorin and moved towards him, he in turn strode forward to meet her.

"Well Thorin, the sport has made me a little bit tired. Everyone is in high spirits and appear peaceable enough to no longer require my presence, so I think I shall retire to mine bed."

Thorin nodded, although she did not look tired to him (in fact he personally thought she looked prettier now as she had tied her hair into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder).

"That is a shame; perhaps we can talk again tomorrow."

Imelia smiled, "Perhaps indeed, I would very much enjoy that. Until tomorrow." She curtseyed and smiled brightly at him.

Thorin bowed in return, "Until then."

Then they parted, Imelia to her house and Thorin to the company of his kin.

Thorin had a wonderful night that night. He met for the first time his nephews Fili and Kili. Fili was a strapping seven year old with bountiful energy. He would crawl onto his uncle's shoulders and ride about hooting joyously. Kili was two and tried to follow his big brother everywhere, although he never made it past Thorins knees. Happiness bloomed in Thorins chest at the sight of his happy, healthy nephews. His sister appeared equally pleased watching her little family enjoy the night together. Eventually the boys were put to sleep and Thorin was free to mingle with his other kin. The night wore on to happy folk enjoying a happy time. Thorin had hoped the night could go on forever but eventually the dawn had to rise. And on this particular morning the dawn rose with a horrified scream and the smell of acrid smoke.

...

**Important: **Okay people I'm afraid that the chapters are going to have to stop here until I get a few reviews because I need the opinion of some of my readers. Your first impressions of Imelia; do you like her? Now my original plan was to leave the relationship status of Imelia and Thorin open. I wanted to let the readers decide if they could be a couple or not, but I have since that point thought of some really beautiful or emotional scenes that can only be imputed if they are indeed obviously paired. So I would like to know if you want them together or not. Sorry for the short chapter by the way. Seriously guys though, REVIEWS! Especially if you are following The Memory; your opinions are valued and needed more than you know!


	4. Battle

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or any of its characters; but I do own Imelia. If you ever find yourself in a situation where she would be a good character to use in your own story you are welcome to use her, just let me know first. Thanks.

All merrymaking stopped in an instant as every head turned toward the scream. It had come from over the hill Imelia had disappeared over several hours before. Black smoke travelled upwards into the pale sky and a red glow was illuminating the dawn as it lightened the skies.

"The estate!" someone screamed.

The enchantment thus broken everyone was running and shouting, women went to collect the young and men began scrabbling for weapons and charging up the hill towards the house. Thorin took the lead, having been reaching for his sword and axe from the moment the scream began. He did not know what awaited them on the other side of the hill but he knew in his heart it was more than just a fire; after all someone had to have set it; and in more than one place, judging by the look of it. Just then Thorin and twenty three of his kin crested the hill. Below, Hell had risen to Middle Earth. There was a great manor and several barns all on fire. Livestock ran all around, many of their pelts where ablaze as they scattered in panic. Then there was the orcs, there had to be more than five dozen. Thorin had not seen so many in one place in years. They swarmed the estate like rats, killing and burning anyone or anything in their wake. Many men ran about the place, trying to douse fires and defend the estate, most only armed with farming tools. Thorin bellowed in rage and charged down the hill, joining the fray. He raised his blade high and sent it crashing into the skull of a particularly nasty looking orc. Around him he could hear the sound of other dwarves fighting. Some of the men hollered in joy before returning to their own tasks. Streams of people were fleeing the burning manor. Imelia among them; she was in a night gown and barefoot but in her hand gleamed a menacing looking sword. A very tall, broad shouldered man followed her out carrying a coughing, soot covered woman. The man clearly could be no other than Redwing. He resembled Imelia with his blue eyes and proud nose and jaw though it was masked with bristle. His graying hair also still held some of its previous blond luster. He was much taller than Imelia though. This man was a hulking menace that would make even the largest of orcs hesitate to attack. He gently set the woman down, then he shouted something at her, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely. Then he rose to his feet and ran into the battle, pulling a long sword from the scabbard on his back. The woman screamed after him tears pouring down her face, Imelia grabbed her arm and shook her harshly, screaming at her, then she roughly pushed her away. The woman stumbled and ran, wailing as she did so.

"Del! Del!" she howled as she went.

Imelia in the meantime had begun to hack and chop at anything she could, fighting her way to her father, who was already surrounded by orcs. Thorin also tried to reach Redwing. Though the man was nearly a giant and quiet skilled he was still grossly outnumbered and had received many cuts, some shallow, some deep. Neither Imelia or Thorin made it to him in time; the orcs closed in around him and dragged him to the ground; he hollered in fury and anguish. Then the orcs turned away making for other targets.

"Father!" Imelia howled running to the prone form of her father. His shirt was drenched in blood and huge gnashing holes covered his torso, arms and legs. Imelia dropped to her knees next to him and rolled him onto his back. His blue eyes were pale and vacant. Imelia gave a terrible scream and grabbing her sword again flung herself back into action and Thorin lost sight of her for a time. He surveyed his surroundings a moment. Very few of humans were left standing but at least the orcs numbers were dwindling fast. Then he heard a woman scream and he whipped his head around in time to see an orc smash an appalling looking mace into the chest of the woman he had presumed was Redwings wife and Imelia's mother. She flew back several feet and landed in a crumpled heap in the dust. Thorin roared and threw his axe at the head of the mace wielding axe. It missed sinking instead into the beasts shoulder. It howled in agony and, dropping is mace, fell to its knees. Thorin bellowed and charged at it, bowling it onto its back.

"Why are you here?!" Thorin cried, raising his sword.

"To kill you, dwarf-scum!" It replied in garbled common tongue.

Thorin screamed in rage and cleaved the things skull in. Then, he heard it, and his heart dropped.

"Mamma?!"

Thorin whipped around to see Delkin, Imelia's little brother kneeling next to his dead mother, shaking her with all his might, trying to wake her, though she never stirred.

"Del!" Thorin barked. The boy looked up, startled, "Don't move! I'm coming to get you; I'll take you somewhere safe."

The boy stood and nodded but his fearful eyes darted desperately back to the form at his feet. Thorin jogged toward the child and Del advanced a few feet until he remembered Thorins instruction.

"Del!" that was Imelia, she was running to her brother as well, much faster than Thorin though, and he understood that the boy was in more danger than he thought, he picked up speed and swiftly scanned the area for the threat. He spotted it and knew that the situation was hopeless. An orc, nearly dead, had managed to get onto its knees and had a bow in its hands. The string was drawn and the arrow ready. It was pointed strait at Del. Then the orc released and the arrow whizzed away, faster than Thorins eyes could catch. When he drew his eyes back to Del a large, black arrow was embedded into his stomach. Del looked at the arrow, startled. Then his knees began to quake and collapsed under him. Imelia reached him and cradled him in her arms. Thorin stopped and sorrow gripped him; this was not fair, it was not right. He kept his sword ready to protect Imelia as she held her brother to her chest.

"Shh, Shh, little one. All is well, you will be fine," Imelia soothed Del, her voice surprisingly level. "Hush now, hush.

"It hurts," he whimpered.

"Don't worry my lovely, you are going to fall asleep, understand, and when you wake everything will be better. You won't hurt anymore and it will be sunny a beautiful, and everyone will be laughing and playing. Mamma will be there to read to you, and Papa will teach you to throw an axe, just like him."

"R-Really?" he was fading fast; his bright little eyes grew dimmer. She nodded, unable to speak as tears formed in her eyes but did not spilled over.

"W-will you b-b-be th-there?"

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, "Oh, I might be about somewhere."

Del took in a few, gasping breaths and gazed up at his sister who began to hum and rock back and forth. She had a big smile full of love on her face. She tried so hard to hide the sorrow that was overwhelming her. Then Del shuttered, and with his eyes still locked onto Imelia's, his tense little body relaxed, and he died.

Imelia kept humming and rocking for a moment. Then, "Del? Del?" She gave him a tiny shake.

"DEL!"

Imelia's scream echoed in the morning air.

"NO, NO, NO, NO!" She kept screaming. Several of the few remaining orcs were attracted by her anguished calls. Imelia was blind and deaf to all but her sorrow at this point. She cried and cried, her tears carving rivers through the blood and dirt on her face. She buried her head into Del's shoulder and continued to weep.

"Imelia! I need your help!" Thorin cried. Without some assistance he would never fend off all the advancing orcs and there was no one else close enough.

Although she was still completely consumed by her grief she seemed to register his words. Sobbing uncontrollably, Imelia carefully and gently set Del down, and brushed her fingertips over his eye lids, closing them. Then she stood, dragging her sword with her, her head bent, shoulders shaking. The tip of her blade settled uselessly in the dust. An orc bellowed and raised its axe, obviously looking to behead Imelia. Her head snapped up and for a second her saw her face. Her eyes were ablaze with sorrow and hate, her tears continued to flow washing away more and more grime from her face. Thorin quaked a bit at that look; he'd become unfortunately familiar with it. He had seen it when Erebor was lost and he had seen it at the battle for Moria. Often times he even saw it in the mirror when he chanced to look upon one. He had grown used to the look; but to see it mar this beautiful, kind woman's face, it made in incredibly sad, and perhaps even a little fearful. The orc was close enough to attack.

"Die!" Imelia snarled, and she swung her sword towards the orc.

**Okay, thanks to everyone for your reviews! I've been really excited for this chapter it's obviously really dark PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I did not get nearly enough reviews. I need at least five for this chapter and Dubz'nStuff's don't count cause we love each other and as my best friend I think she feels obligated to review. Anyways please let me know what you think. And I'll have another chapter ready soon. **

**With love,**

**Nyss**


	5. Loss

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or any of its characters; but I do own Imelia. If you ever find yourself in a situation where she would be a good character to use in your own story you are welcome to use her, just let me know first. Thanks.

"Retreat!" an orc called in its own brutal tongue.

The remaining few regrouped at the one who called the order and those that could ran as fast as they could, abandoning their wounded. No one bothered to chase them. The survivors of the attack had the injured and the dead to deal with. Thorin panted and looked over at Imelia. She was breathing heavily like Thorin and the ground at her feet was littered with corpses. Her face was contorted in agony, blood and dust covered her body. There was a long, oozing scratch running down her thigh and on her left arm the skin was badly scraped from her knuckles to halfway up her forearm; but there did not appear to be any life threatening injuries. She watched the orcs run for a second then she dropped her sword and staggered away from the orcs that surrounded her. She continued on until she was at the bodies of her brother and mother. For many long moments she just stood there staring at them, eventually dragging her eyes towards her father who lay across the field. She bent down next to her mother and hugged her close, kissing her cheek before she settled her back onto the ground. One of the dwarves had moved to go pick up Del, but Imelia snarled at him like a feral cat and he backed away. Imelia crawled to her brother and scooped him up in her arms, then struggled to her feet. On her way up her injured leg gave out and she crashed onto her knee's with a jarring lurch. Thorin moved to steady her so that she wouldn't fall over completely. Imelia shrugged off his hand and emitted a low growl. Thorin backed away and watched the girl struggle back onto her feet. He then had to watch her slowly limp her way to her father with the lifeless form of her only brother dangling from her bloodied arms. It was an excruciating process for Imelia as her leg burned and she was so unbelievably tired, each step was somewhere between torture and overwhelming numbness. Thorin saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he redirected his gaze to a tall man covered in blood and angry looking burns – the only other surviving human on the estate. The man had shuffled over to the body of his mistress, tears in his eyes, and a bloody ho in his hand.

"I'm so sorry Miss," he said to the corpse. "I'm so very sorry. You and your family were too good to have something this terrible befall you."

With that he discarded his gore splattered farm tool and took it upon himself to pick up the Lady Redwing as if she were something delicate and carry her over to her family. Thorin watched in sorrow but did not make a move. He would not attempt to interfere again; nor would any other dwarf, it seemed. Imelia had moved much slower than the burly man carrying her mother so he reached Redwing only a few moments after Imelia had deposited Del onto the ground next to her father. The farmhand laid Lady Redwing on the other side of Del and after a moment reached out and touched Imelia's arm. She looked up at him slowly and the two seemed to share a silent exchange. Then they broke contact and by some unspoken agreement they began to tend to the bodies of Imelia's family. They straitened their limbs and brushed hair away from their faces. As they did this a commotion came from behind Thorin. He turned around to see more dwarves and a large group of men from the town charging down the hill, ready for a fight. The carnage of the orcs attack and the reality that they had arrived to late seemed to settle over the group as then drew closer and they stumbled to a halt a few feet in front of Thorin.

And they just stood. In a horrified silence they all just stood there and stared. Finally an old man began to push through.

"Get out of my way!" he growled. "Move!"

Eventually he reached the edge of the group and the gruff gray bearded mans eyes darted around frantically, then they stopped and they grew wide and tears sprung to them.

"By Eru, no," he whimpered. Then he half ran half staggered over to one of the fallen, a boy of probably no older than twelve. He reached the body and dropped to his knees.

"Cormin," the man mumbled. He gathered the boy up in his arms and clutched him closely to his chest. Suddenly he howled; it was a terrible thing, filled with sorrow and hate.

"No," he kept groaning in between sobs. Another man came up and knelt beside him, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"My grandson… What am I supposed to tell Tanni? Oh, Cormin," he buried his face into the boys chest. "He just worked here to make some extra money for his mother." He looked at the man gripping his shoulder, "What am I supposed to tell my daughter?"

Thorin's heart ached watching the old man weep. Other men began drifting to their fallen family members or neighbors or friends, each man adding his groans of woe to the cacophony.

Surveying the mayhem, Thorin once again found his eyes drifting over to Imelia and her family. The burly man had left her and was now ambling through the crowd aimlessly. Thorin slowly made his way back towards Imelia. She ignored him when he crouched next to her; she had only eyes for her family. Imelia observed them with blank, empty eyes until suddenly she flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around her father's neck.

"I'm so sorry Papa," she choked out, her voice hoarse from smoke inhalation. "I couldn't save Del. I couldn't save Mama. I couldn't even avenge you properly. Some of the bastards got away!" She spat venomously. "I didn't even chase them! I just felt so… so empty and afraid and – and –" she couldn't finish. She just buried her face deeper into her father's shoulder and wept. Thorin left her alone for awhile but he noticed the cut on her thigh was still oozing blood. Imelia needed medical attention and Thorin would make sure she got it.

"Imelia?" he asked tentatively. She ignored him so he called her again and she still did not reply.

He grew slightly impatient because of her wound so he reached out and touched her shoulder, "Imelia!"

She sat up then, bleary eyed and looked around, bewildered, "What…" she blinked and shook her head a few times.

"Imelia," Thorin said grabbing her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "It's me, Thorin. You are injured and we need to get you medical attention. Do you understand?"

Imelia stared at him for a long moment then she looked back at her family and gave a slow nod.

"I don't think I can stand up on my own though," she mumbled weakly.

"It's fine. I will carry you," he replied.

She nodded eyes still on her family. Thorin stood and scanned the area looking for somewhere to take her for help. He found it quickly enough; Thorin's people were quick to set up a station to help the wounded.

He turned back to Imelia, "Ready?"

She nodded.

Thorin sighed and stooped down, gingerly slipping his hands behind her back and in the crooks of her knees, and then he hoisted her up.

She hissed in discomfort and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.

"Don't let anyone other than Dirk near them," Imelia said as Thorin began walking.

"What? Who's Dirk?" Thorin asked, confused.

Imelia just pointed, and after following her point he realized that Dirk was the burly man from earlier. Thorin looked at Imelia and found her staring at her family again. Then he understood that Imelia did not want anyone other than this Dirk fellow to move the bodies of her kin. Why, he could not understand, but it was her desire and in the state she was in he would not deny her wishes. So, he stated simply...

"Very well."


	6. Decisions

**Hey everyone. I know it's been a really long time since I posted but I was going though some stuff in school and work and everything I guess. Some good news though, The Memory won me a scholarship! Yay. Anyways I'm almost done school so I should be able to post more often again. YAY. Lots of yay's today. Anyways I hope you enjoy. **

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Thorin rubbed his face tiredly. It had been nearly two days since the orc attack on the Redwing estate and everything had been in utter turmoil since then. There had been twenty seven humans living on the estate at the time of the attack and only two had survived; and of the twenty three dwarves that had fought for the estate seventeen had survived. That meant there had been thirty bodies to claim and bury. Then the bodies of the orcs and slaughtered livestock had to be burned and anything of value had to be salvaged from the wreckage of the manor and barns.

There had not been much to recover.

Thorin spat into the dust and made for the settlement for the night, leaving behind the scorched rubble of Imelia's home. As he climbed the hill he realized that he had not seen Imelia since he brought her to his kin for medical treatment. Balin had told him that she would make a full recovery which eased any worries he had for her physical wellbeing and he had been so busy that he just had not had the time. Several men from the town's council had also been into see her constantly; this had kept her busy and the dwarves trying to care for her very annoyed.

Thorin sighed to himself, who was he kidding?

He was afraid to face her again. After seeing her empty gaze, he was just too scared.

Well he would have to see her sooner or later. He represented the dwarves living here and he needed to see if they would be allowed to stay, even after all Imelia had lost. Thorin was acutely aware that she may blame him and his people for her families' death. Many of the men he had encountered had shot him hateful glares.

Before he knew it he was at Balins' door, reaching for the door knob, but his ridiculous hand betrayed him, stopping and hovering just a few inches from the handle. Imelia was in there and Thorin was afraid. He was loath to admit it but he was afraid – no, he was terrified – of the tiny, beaten down human girl on the other side of the door. Thorin gritted his teeth and shook himself like a dog.

"_Pull it together man!" _He chastised himself. Then he gripped the handle and wrenched the door open; probably with more force than necessary. Balin looked up from his chair, startled. Then he gave Thorin a bit of a confused glare, biting on the stem of his pipe.

"Imelia?" was all Thorin gave in reply.

Balin nodded and pointed with his pipe to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so Thorin steeled himself and slipped in.

Imelia was sitting up in bed, head bent, eyes on several sheets of parchment sprawled across her lap. She did not appear to notice Thorin so he just stood and observed her for a moment. She looked terrible. Her clothes were disheveled and her skin was pale and gaunt. Someone (Thorin doubted it was her) had braided her hair into a neat braid, which made her look a little bit more human, but the truth was, all in all, the girl looked terrible. Eventually, Thorin grew impatient and coughed. Imelia's shoulders twitched and she slowly looked up at him. She took a deep breath and sat up strait, gesturing to a chair at her right.

Thorin sat and for a moment neither spoke; then Imelia cleared her throat.

"I am glad that you have come to visit me," she murmured quietly.

Thorin nodded, "And I am sorry that I did not come sooner."

She waved his apology away, "You were busy."

Thorin nodded, glad that she did not appear angry with him.

"How are your wounds?"

"Healing nicely."

Thorin nodded again and they lapsed into silence. Imelia took the opportunity to collect the scraps of paper from her lap and organized them into a neat pile on her lap.

Thorin sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "I must ask… Do you blame us for the attack?"

Her answer was immediate and sharp, "No!"

She looked up at him and willed the dwarf to see how much she meant that.

"The orcs are to blame. They attacked us, not you."

"Some would say they attacked because of our presence."

"Of course they would," she said. "They need someone to blame and because all of the orcs are dead or run off the blame falls to the outsiders. It's the way our stupid little brains work."

Thorin stared at her; relief filled him at her statement, "I had to be sure."

Imelia nodded, "Besides, Father is the one who took the dwarves in. He could have just as easily sent them on their way." She snorted, her face contorted into a mask of fury and pain, "And orcs are _**indiscriminatory**_ creatures. They kill all kinds. From men and dwarves to elves and wizards; if they are able, they will destroy." She finished the bitterly and once again they lapsed into quiet.

It was almost half an hour before either spoke again. Imelia shattered the silence with a harsh and unexpected statement.

"You and your kin will have to leave the estate," she said mournfully.

"What?!" Thorin yelped, surprised and angry. "But you said you did not blame us for the orc attack!"

"I do not," she said firmly. "And if it were up to me you would be able to stay, but sadly, it is not."

"How is it not your decision to make?" Thorin asked, thoroughly baffled. "This is your land, isn't it?" he growled sharply, quickly becoming angry.

"That's just it!" Imelia snapped back, equally frustrated. "It's not my land!

Thorin sat back and stared at her in confusion, "I do not understand."

Imelia sighed and shifted, trying to get more comfortable, "I do not know how it works in dwarven society but the laws of men state that women cannot hold title to any land, not on their own at least. If I were married or Del had survived the attack the situation could be very different because though my husband or Del would own the land itself I would still have a great deal of influence over it. Unfortunately, that is not the case so the title has been given to the towns council and I can guarantee you that they will ask you to leave. To them it is you who the orcs have come for. All folk in Middle-Earth know the hate orcs bear dwarves and vise versa. To the men of Kerdenwil orcs seeking out dwarves is to be expected."

Thorin had sat forward again and was grinding his teeth in frustration. He breathed several deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to calm the fury boiling in him. The world was far too cruel to his people. A dragon had robbed them of their home, orcs had killed their kings, elves had abandoned them in their hour of need, and now men would not let them settle, forcing them to wander Middle-Earth. He stood up quickly, nearly toppling his chair and began to pace.

Imelia looked at him impassively.

The dwarves of Erebor needed a new home. They needed a home to call their own; a home that could not be taken from them. Thorin had dwelled on the prospect for several years now but had yet to put it into action. Thorin realized that the time for procrastination was over. It was time to find a new home for his people.

He stopped pacing and cleared his throat, although there was no need as Imelia was already focused on him.

"I am sorry but I must leave you now," he said stiffly.

Imelia's eyebrows rose, "Why? I am without a family and strictly speaking, I am also homeless. You to have lost kin to the orcs and any man who has eyes can see you feel responsible for me… And yet, you have chosen to leave."

The young woman's face scrunched in confusion and she slowly began to shake her head.

Thorin inhaled deeply and looked out the window as his kin rushed to and fro.

"You have heard the story of Smaug, yes?"

Imelia nodded.

"A fire drake from some place far north had heard of the wealth of my people and the beast came to Erebor and burned and killed and drove out all who had lived there. No man, elf, dwarf, or animal could remain by the Lonely Mountain."

Fury burned white hot in Thorins' breast as he recalled the events of that day. He continued to stare out the window and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.

"Ever since then the people of Erebor have been homeless, roaming Middle Earth, just trying to survive," He heaved a heavy sigh.

"We can no longer simply survive. My people must live. And they must do so on their own terms; without the assistance or charity of others. I have stood idle for far too long. It is time for me to find a proper home for the dwarves of Erebor," Thorin turned his gaze back to Imelia, hoping she could understand the need that had filled him.

Imelia locked eyes with him for a moment, her face devoid of any emotion she may have felt. Then she looked back down at the scrolls on her lap.

"Go and prepare yourself for your journey then," she said with a dismissive gesture. "I'll be sure to see you off in the morning."

Thorin stood there for a moment, taken aback by her cold indifference. That had not been the reaction he was expecting.

Imelia did not look up again despite Thorin seething in anger and confusion at the foot of her bed. Finally he bowed again, in a swift and jerky movement.

"Very well, Lady Redwing, until morning then," he hissed, displeased and perplexed by Imelia's cold manner. Then he swept out of the room, past Balin and out of the small house, slamming the door shut behind him.

In her room Imelia nodded, eyes still on her paperwork, "Until morning."


End file.
